By
Rohana R. Wasala
The Maithripala Sirisena affair reminded me of a silly character in a Sinhalese teledrama I watched some years ago. It was a good-natured simpleton who was being looked after by his brother. In one episode this man is shown husking coconuts in a well-to-do neighbour’s compound, and he is heard saying to an inmate of that house standing nearby: “If you have any more coconuts to husk, bring them to me. Today I came here to escape from my brother. If I stayed at home he’d make me work”.
Something that seems to have slipped the mind of many who talk about the Maithripala defection drama is the fact that had it not been for Mr Mahinda Rajapaksa he would have been more of a nonentity than he is today vis-à-vis both those whom he has betrayed and those whom he has buddied up with. In fact, the government’s staying power is mostly due to the popularity of the president.
Even Mr Sirisena has forgotten that he didn’t have an independent existence without his leader who defined or determined his identity. Mr Rajapaksa had to fashion him as a useful colleague not out of any autocratic inclination on his part, but out of necessity given Mr Sirisena’s mediocrity. His unimportance is now being confirmed by the increasing hopelessness of his new situation. Of course, there could be some cats on the fence at the moment biding their time treacherously before jumping on the bandwagon; after smelling the wind for a prey they may take the plunge or, just remain in Mahinda’s camp as if nothing had troubled them. The second option looks more likely now.
Mr Sirisena may be staking too much on his country bumpkin image. But our people are smarter than he probably thinks they are. Sri Lankan voters are no longer ready to be swayed by the caste or class background of politicians as they were supposed to be in the past. That the Lankan electorate is predominantly village based does not mean that a politician’s country origin is an adequate qualification. Mr Rajapaksa’s functional use of his inherited association with a village background is a different matter: Mahinda’s political savvy gained through more than forty years of rough and tumble in the field and personal charisma supported by the unique leadership skills of his brothers, particularly Gotabhaya and Basil, constitute a national asset with which the rural majority of the country can identify, and that is good for the country. Mr Sirisena is not known for such abilities or personal magnetism.
Through the visceral hatred and abject meanness of the prominent opposition elements towards the Rajapaksas they are displaying their antinational disposition, and their contempt for those they would like to call godayas (rustics). It is obvious that Ranil and Chandrika, former enemies but now feigned soul mates in a diabolical enterprise to wreck the normalcy that the Rajapaksas played a lead role in restoring, are trying to turn the tables on them. Given their temperaments the present union between them is a shotgun marriage; it won’t last long enough to matter. When the insignificant Maithri is factored into the tripartite equation, it won’t be a surprise if in the end Ranil shook hands with Mahinda over their heads!
Ven Sobhita Thera, whatever his political (in)significance, may not be sharing their anti-Rajapaksa malevolence, though he may be opposed to the president on certain principles however unsound at this moment. But he revealed that he is a player in a long-term plan to bring about a government change when he boasted that ‘the first stage’ has been successful (with the defection of Maithripala); he must mean the first step of a project or conspiracy to topple the Rajapaksa government. The venerable monk’s concern in terms of his political beliefs with the welfare of the country and all its communities (based on untenable grounds though it is) may be genuine, but his alliance with characters who share no sympathy with Buddhist cultural values is ill advised.
Ordinary people know that the president is an exemplary Buddhist. He never says anything bad about those who bear malice towards him and revile him constantly; he never speaks ill of monks, but instead advises others not to criticize them even if they are seen to do the wrong things (obviously, leaving the correction of monks’ conduct to themselves); he regularly participates in traditional Buddhist practices. Isn’t a person who properly guards his or her actions, thoughts and words a real Buddhist? It is difficult to believe that he does these things merely as a political strategy, because he knows that even if he didn’t do so people would still vote for him.
Courtesy:The Island